Kingdom of Ghosts
by Shadow Amber
Summary: Walker is a solitary adventurer from the West Coast staying in Megaton. Valerie is a shy, intelligent girl from Vault 101. When Valerie's father leaves the Vault, Walker finds herself dragged along for no reason other than her own insufferable hero complex. Now it's up to her to take care of Valerie until the sweet vault girl can do it herself.
1. Out of the Vault

_ War. War never changes. _

_ Since the dawn of their kind, when man's ancestors first discovered the killing power of rock and bone, blood has been spilled in the name of everything: from God, to justice, to simple, psychotic rage. _

_ In the year 2077, after millennia of armed conflict, the destructive nature of man could sustain itself no longer. The world was plunged into an abyss of nuclear fire and radiation. _

_ But it was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world. Instead, the apocalypse was simply the prologue to another bloody chapter of human history. For man had succeeded in destroying the world - but war, war never changes. _

_ In the early days, thousands were spared the horrors of the holocaust by taking refuge in enormous underground shelters, known as Vaults. But when they emerged, they had only the hell of the wastes to greet them - all except those in Vault 101. For on that fateful day, when fire rained from the sky, the giant steel door of Vault 101 slid closed... and never reopened._

_ But it is not here you were born, nor was it here _she_ was born. _

_ No, you came from a place long forgotten, even by yourself. You traveled here from the west, seeking to escape a world so eager to sink back into the wants and desires that brought forth the need for someone like you._

_ But it was here in this kingdom of ghosts that you found _her_, and it was here that you found something you never knew you had…_

_ Can you guess?_

* * *

><p>Fallout 3<p>

Kingdom of Ghosts

* * *

><p>Following in his Footsteps:<p>

Out of the Vault

_Vault 101 entrance…_

James sighed as the great Vault Door of Vault 101 slid closed behind him with a screech of metal. He had been a fool, running away from his responsibility all those years ago. Grief over the loss of his wife was no excuse. When little Valerie was born at the cost of his wife, he took the newborn and fled Rivet City with only his old friend Cross at his side.

It was here, almost seventeen years ago, that he had stood before this mighty door and begged the denizens inside to allow him and the baby entry. It had only been after several hours of heated discussion that the Overseer – a man named Almodovar – had consented to open the door, on the condition that James took over as the head of the medical staff and that no one ever speak of their arrival.

James had spent nearly two decades in that Vault in relative peace, caring for Valerie as she grew into a beautiful, intelligent woman like her mother. He regretted leaving her behind, but he knew she would be safe, far away from the dangers of the Capital Wasteland.

He wished dearly to return, to go back to his precious daughter, but he knew in his heart that he had to do this. He _had_ to go back to Project Purity, finish the work he abandoned so long ago. Casting one final glance at the giant steel door, James trudged down the dark passage, stepping over the rusted cans and broken bottles of countless wastelanders that took shelter in this old mineshaft – all of them fully aware of the warm, clean beds only a hundred feet from where they rested on rocky ground.

Pushing open the moldy door that blocked out the worst of the weather, James took in the sight of the Capital Wasteland. The ruins of a small town sat below the cliff the Vault entrance had been built into, most of the houses reduced to skeletal wrecks that provided little shelter from the cold wasteland nights. Only two buildings remained intact, both deserted.

The houses were some of the many scattered around the Capital Wasteland used by travelers needing a roof over their heads. James was very familiar with them, having spent several nights in similar locations. Wastelanders didn't bother settling in them – they provided too little security and were often in the open, making them excellent targets for Raiders looking for easy loot.

A harsh wind smashed into him, carrying not only the familiar smell of rust and radiation, but also the smell of sweat and human waste. A large, well-defended settlement lay maybe a kilometer to the southwest.

Megaton, it was called. A crude, uneven wall of salvaged scrap metal built around the impact crater of an airplane that crashed into the countryside, its precious cargo of an undetonated atomic bomb not deterring the wastelanders who took up residence in the easily defended crater. The town was now one of the major centers of trade in the Capital Wasteland, lying right across one of the main caravan routes.

It was dark – living under the constant glow of the Vault lights caused havoc with his night vision, and James had to stop himself from falling over the edge several time before he finally made contact with rad-soaked dirt, the boots of his jumpsuit now in tatters. "I'm going to need to pick up some _real_ clothing in-town," he muttered, thanking the stars he still carried a bag filled with the bottle caps used as currency. "These jumpsuits may be comfy, but they're no good out here."

Grumbling to himself about idiot jumpsuit designers and limping slightly, James followed the weathered path that would lead him to civilization.

_"Civilization…"_ he hummed quietly, _"I'll stay right here."_

* * *

><p><em>Megaton sniper's nest…<em>

Walker whistled an old tune from back west as she swept the night scope of her sniper rifle over the irradiated landscape. She was young, not even twenty, with pale skin, sleek black hair that reached halfway down her back and vibrant green eyes that glowed in the dark after a trip through an old bomb crater.

She had been one of the best back in the NCR, renowned for never failing a job. Her job was also the reason she was stuck on the other end of the continent, sitting atop a teetering sniper's nest welded to a wall surrounding a town that was built around an unexploded nuke.

Sometimes she hated her job.

Of course, an Adventurer-for-Hire was a lucrative position if you had what it takes, but she was getting bored of sitting around doing nothing while the local Brotherhood of Steel chapter finished the report Walker knew Old Lyons was doddering around, unsure of how to word the fact that he continued to betray over half of the laws in the Brotherhood Code by devoting his chapter to clearing out the Super Mutant-infested DC Ruins.

The other half of her mission had gone far better. Protector Casdin of the Brotherhood Outcasts – which, ironically, were the ones who followed Brotherhood philosophy – had been more than happy to assemble a report of all the fancy toys they had found to send back to California, seeing as the Enclave were the only ones with a long-range communications system and they was in no mood to share even if Walker could find them.

Casdin had warned her about taking a peek at the report however, but that was standard. If you couldn't trust someone with your mail, then you had no business with them at all. The report was coded, anyway, so even if she did look, it would take her too much time to decode.

With her mission 50% done and the other 50% locked in some internal struggle (there really was no way to politely phrase that you're still giving your boss the middle finger) Walker had left a note at the Citadel and went to find a job while she waited.

True to her name, she walked for a time, visiting every major settlement and plying her craft where it was needed. But she soon lost interest. The Capital Wasteland was surprisingly peaceful, with the exception of the occasional Super Mutant attack. In the end, her travels led her out of the empty wilderness and back to civilization.

Thankfully, Megaton had been in need of a gatekeeper for the night shift and it paid handsomely. Sheriff Simms had even reimbursed her of any used ammo during her shifts, damn he was a one of a kind fellow.

Her musings were cut short as she spotted a flash of white against the rock. "White," she breathed, assessing the possibilities. "Large, man-sized. Not mercs, not Supers, not beasties. Not moving fast, no hurry. White associated with doctors, Doc Hoff? No. Hoff not due for another week at earliest."

The white-clad figure came back into view and Walker brought up her scope to get a better look. "White lab coat. Either doctor or in need of new clothes. Male, Caucasian, slight tan, greying hair, unshaven. Age: forty to fifty. Stethoscope around neck, doctor. .32 pistol in belt, moderate condition, bulge in coat pockets consistent with three to four spare reloads. Healthy, well-fed for traveler. Wearing blue and yellow, Vaulter? Slight limp, not used to terrain. Not a threat. Likely from 101. Odd."

Setting the personalized sniper rifle against the railing, she watched him make his way up to the heavy gates of Megaton. "You want in, yes?" she called down to him.

"Yes," he replied calmly, if not tiredly.

"Sit tight, I'll open up the gates after I get the Sheriff," Walker called out, grabbing ahold of a thin pipe than ran to the ground below and sliding down it.

Lucas Simms had the biggest house in Megaton. There were only seven or so, with all the other residents living in the big common house, but his was the biggest of them all. It was also the only house with a door on the second floor leading into Simms's bedroom, and only Walker and Stockholm had the key.

The door opened silently, but Simms was a light sleeper and woke the moment Walker's heavy boots touched dirt. "Someone at the gate?" he asked briskly, slipping into his iconic duster and strapping on his trusty .44 Magnum.

Walker nodded. "Single Caucasian male, fifty-to-forty range, greying hair, beard, wears white lab coat over Vault jumpsuit, bit of a limp."

"He gonna be trouble?" asked Simms.

"He's carrying a .32 and a few reloads, so, not likely."

"Mm-hmm," Simms muttered, placing his Sheriff's Hat on and following Walker outside. "You think he's from the old Vault?"

"If he is, he knows the lay of the land well enough," Walker replied, grabbing one of the two winches needed to open the gate. "Might be from another one, but he was heading down the northwest path, and all of the other Vaults I know of out here are to the east. Maybe they're finally sticking their noses out again, but I doubt they'd send a doctor to do that."

"If he's not a threat, then you can quit with the analysis," Sims grunted. "Now put a smile on that face and help me greet our new guest."

"Aye, sir," Walker said cheerfully, slapping a sappy grin on her face.

The man stepped inside and Simms let go of the winch, making the gate slide shut behind the man. "Howdy stranger, name's Lucas Simms, I'm the Sheriff here in Megaton. Where are you from?"

"Rivet City," The man answered, shaking Simms's hand. "I got a little lost and went right by you. Haven't been this way in some time. I'm James Sellis, doctor."

"Not exactly the best gear for a solo trip out to Megaton," Walker remarked, noting the thoroughly shredded lower legs of James's jumpsuit.

"Heh, too true," James chuckled. "Just proves I've spent too much time cooped up in that metal deathtrap. I came out here looking for something for an old project of mine. Who in town would I need to see about rumors of pre-war tech?"

Everything James said was true, Walker noted, but there were some things he was hiding. Simms, however, had said to drop it, so she didn't speak, merely nodding to James before climbing up the latticework of pipes back to her perch. "He can bunk in my house if he doesn't make as mess," she called, tossing the key down to Simms. "The sun won't rise for several hours, and I've got a .308 HE with some Raider's name on it."

* * *

><p><em>Megaton gatehouse…<em>

Simms chuckled as James watched as the woman scaled the pipes effortlessly. "Yeah, that's Walker. She's a bit odd, but a crack shot and doesn't mind the night shift. She won't mind if you grab forty winks at her place."

James smiled but pushed back the offered key. "I'm afraid I can't stay, I have to get back to Rivet City as soon as I can, now about my question?"

Simms scratched his beard. "Well, Moriarty's should be open for another hour or so. Colin probably knows where you can get your gizmo, but he'll charge you for it."

"Money won't be a problem," James replied. "I'll see Moriarty and be out of your hair. Thank you Sheriff."

He shook Simms's hand again and set out to the still-buzzing lights of Moriarty's Saloon.

Simms shook his head. "Busy fella, can't even stay the night. Wonder what that's about?" He frowned. "And now I'm the one overthinking it. That girl is a bad influence on me."

Humming, he went back to his house, hung Walker's key on the hook, and fell asleep, thankful that a person leaving could pull the winch themselves. He was getting too old for this job.

* * *

><p><em>Megaton Main Street…<em>

James's bag was considerably lighter as he made his way back to the gate. Moriarty hadn't changed a bit from when they had first met sixteen years ago. Still an arrogant little bartender who liked having people under his thumb. Last time, Cross had nearly punched his head in after the tenth rude remark. He smiled and shook his head. Good times.

Moriarty had, at least, provided him with the needed information – and some boots. The Brotherhood was still locked in battle with the Super Mutants over the DC Ruins. They had even taken the Memorial, but once he got the team back together, James was confident that he could get Lyons to lend his support.

His current objective was to get to the GNR plaza, where the man known as Three Dog had managed to assemble a radio dish that covered the entire Capital Wasteland – even if it was currently on the fritz. It would also be a good place to earn the respect of the Brotherhood Knights stationed there. If there was one thing they respected, it was strength. Navigating the Super Mutant-infested DC Ruins on his own would show them he wasn't messing around. It would also give him a chance to sharpen his skills.

The was a muffled thump as Walker – the gatekeeper with those strange eyes – dropped from her perch, landing right in front of him. "You are leaving, yes?"

James nodded. "Yes, Moriarty knew what I needed to know and now must get back to Rivet City and assemble a salvage team to recover the necessary materials."

Walker nodded once and led him to the winches. Together they worked the handles and the gates slid open once more. Walker set the lock in place and gave James a brief wave as he set out once more into the wastes. She watched him for a time, her mind filled with so many thoughts that no amount of paper could record them.

Releasing the lock, Walker let the gate slide shut with a satisfying thump. She didn't like it. James was hiding something, and she had a feeling it would come back and bite her later.

She considered 'asking' Moriarty what info he gave James, but decided against it. What would come would come, and she would be ready for it when it did.

Just like always.

_Saving Progress…_

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I do my best to research the subject I'm going on about, and am writing this in tandem with a playthrough of Fallout 3 to refresh my memory of what happens so I don't spend six hours on the wiki going over the plot and missing something important that was left out. I will be employing Artistic License occasionally, but don't really want to do it too much. This is rated M to match the rating of the Fallout series and due to content.<p>

As a warning before you get too far, this story may/will contain: depictions of gore (you pansy), adult themes (this will only make you want to read more, won't it?), LGBT themes (if you have a problem, then leave), unrealism (this is a story based on a game where you fight giant animals mutated by a virus/radiation and the main character can walk in space with a fingerless glove on), drug use (again, Fallout), death (obviously), an unreliable narrator (I am not!), Bible references (it makes me look sophisticated), potential mindfuckery, crude language, cruelty to things you shouldn't be cruel to, violence (how shocking), allusions to anarchy, allusions to communism, allusions to democracy (which is NON-NEGOTIABLE), allusions to some other political view, allusions to atheism, slavery, opinions (all a lie), seditious thinking (you commie/penguin), changes to canon, references to other media (in America), snark (hah hah), sarcasm (not), medium awareness, a shark in a tutu fighting cybertronic space demons, evil people, Artificial Intelligence, people, racist people, happiness, Lovecraftian influences, immortal dogs, butchery of medical practices (you quack), spoilers (if you haven't played Fallout 3, then too bad), sellping erorrs, metaphorical torture, semantics (a relative word), robots (bip-bop boop), soundtrack alterations, depressing topics (boo-hoo), flawed characters, time travel, religious discussion, copious badassitude, tropes, technical crossovers, controversial topics, human rights discussion, supernatural occurrences, copious use of the English language, use of other languages to sound important, extraterrestrial life, anvils, butchery of science, inconsistent terminology, anime logic, video game logic, lampshades, hypocrisy, Original Characters (steal and I do nothing due to lack of copyrights) and other things.

You have been warned.

This is my first fic on this site. _Be brutal._ Not really of course, but if you want to review, say something interesting.


	2. Notification

The Kingdom is undergoing a revolution. Please remain calm until the situation has resolved itself.


End file.
